


All I Want for Christmas

by ducklingcabal



Category: Love Victor (TV 2020)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ducklingcabal/pseuds/ducklingcabal
Summary: Ever since he was little, Benji Campbell has been convinced that he has the power to make his wishes come true. But after some of his wishes go awry, he swears off wishing for good - that is until a little too much Christmas cheer inspires him to make one little wish. And then Victor Salazar shows up, as if by magic, and Benji wonders what trouble he's conjured up this time.
Relationships: Benjamin "Benji" Campbell/Victor Salazar
Comments: 41
Kudos: 31
Collections: Venji Fic Fests: Winter Holidays 2020





	1. All I Want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and a happy New Year to all! This starts off without much Venji, but I promise that the rest of the story will be very Venji-centric. Hope you enjoy it!

When Benji is four years old, he sits at the kitchen table, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. His feet dangle from his chair, still too high to reach the floor while they wiggle and dance in time as his mother plays the piano and sings in the attached living room.

His dad is off somewhere, but Benji doesn’t mind. This is how he likes it best, just him and his mom. The afternoon sunlight streams in from the window behind her, illuminating her like an angel. Or maybe she’s the source of the light, radiant and shining. Benji can’t be certain.

And he starts to giggle around a mouth full of sticky peanut butter, filled with a sudden and uncontainable happiness and a warmth that his layers of sweaters couldn’t provide.

His mother pauses her playing, a hint of a smile on her face. “What’s gotten into you, little bird?”

He’s too small to have the words to explain it, so he says it in the simplest way he knows. “I love you, mommy.”

Her smile widens at his innocent candor. “I love you, too, my chickadee. Do you know how much I love you?” Her fingers move deftly across the keys as she sings. “ _I love you, a bushel and a peck. A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.”_

Benji is overcome by another fit of giggles at the sound of the joyful melody, which only subsides when his mother finishes the song with a dramatic flourish.

“Mommy, do you love daddy?” Benji’s dad is somewhat of a mystery to him. His father, a musician, is more often out at gigs than home with his family.

“Of course I love daddy.” After a moment’s hesitation, Benji’s mom becomes serious, turning on the bench to face him. “Let me tell you something, chickadee. In your life, you’ll meet people who are beautiful, people who are charming, and people who are rich. But if you want to be really happy, you should marry someone you love. Looks fade and money can buy a lot of things but not happiness – it’s love that really matters when you’re old and grey. So remember that, no matter what anyone else tells you.”

And Benji doesn’t completely understand what she means, but he can tell that this is important to his mom. So he thinks about it and thinks about it some more while his mom plays another song, his small face scrunched in concentration as he chews the last of his sandwich.

He tries to imagine what it would be like to be old like his grandpa. He pictures two squishy armchairs next to each other in front of a fireplace and two wrinkled hands joined between them and feels a sense of contentment settle over him at the image.

Pleased that he understands, he nods softly and whispers, “I see, momma. I see.”

That night, as he snuggles against his mom while she reads him a bedtime story, he finds himself sleepily making a wish. At this age, his wishes are still the innocent and rose-tinted variety of fairy godmothers and benevolent genies, uncolored by cautionary tales of monkey paws and tricky djinn. So as he drifts off to sleep, wishing for more days just like this one – days filled with singing and giggles and peanut-butter-and-sometimes-jelly-sandwiches and too many sweaters - he can’t envision just how complicated wishes can be.

\-----

Benji doesn’t fully understand the great and terrible power that he possesses right away. At the age of 6, he becomes suspicious when he wishes that his father would go away after a particularly loud argument between his parents. To his surprise, his father does, fading into the obscurity of an over-exposed photograph.

He experiments with the limits of his abilities - mostly small things like a schoolyard nemesis tripping and falling into a mud puddle or pretending to be sick so he can stay home from school.

At 8, he tries for something bigger. He sits at the kitchen table, feet now firmly touching the floor, eating a just-peanut-butter-no-jelly sandwich. His mother sits at the end of the table, anxiously sifting through a stack of bills. Instead of piano keys, her fingers move deftly over the keypad of a calculator and a chorus of concerned “hmms" replaces her once lively singing.

She sighs loudly, resting her chin in her hands. She notices the worry on Benji’s face as he watches her and smiles wanly at him. “Don’t worry, chickadee. Everything’s okay.”

And he loves her for that, for shielding him as best she can. But he worries about her, too. “Mom, are you happy?”

His mother reaches across the table and rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course I’m happy.” Her hand withdraws and she presses on the cuticles of her thumbnails idly. “Listen, sweetheart, I know things haven’t been easy lately, but I promise you, we’re really doing okay.”

Benji feels guilty when he sees her apologetic smile, unsettled by a nagging feeling that he and his dumb wishes are to blame for their situation. “Do you – do you ever miss Dad?”

She pauses a moment, studying his face. “Sometimes I do.” Her voice is quiet, as if limiting the volume at which she speaks the words could somehow lessen the sentiment behind them.

Her hands still in her lap as she finally notices their idle motion while she searches for a way to explain. “I loved your father very much. But it’s not that simple, little bird. Love isn't constant, it sometimes grows and sometimes fades. And people change – or maybe you realize that you never really knew them in the first place.”

She stops herself, almost embarrassed that’s she’s said this much. She moves from her seat to crouch in front of him. “But there is one thing I know for certain. That I will _always_ love you, chickadee.”

Benji smiles at her, reassured. “What do you say we take a break from all these nasty bills and play some music together? But maybe you should play the piano this time, I’m out of practice.” She stands and offers him a hand and they walk to the piano together.

As they sing together, Benji feels a familiar swelling in his heart and an urge make another wish. But having learned from the selfishness and carelessness of his earlier wishes, he decides to try a different approach. He wishes for his mom to be happy and that she had someone to take care of her like she takes care of him. And it seems to work, this new approach. It’s not long after that she meets Bill, a kind and gentle man who would soon become his stepfather.

With this success, Benji decides it's best not to tempt fate and decides to retire his wishing for good. And he does, until that fateful night several years later when a little spiked egg-nog and Christmas cheer get the best of him.

_____

At 17, Benji sits on the couch next to his boyfriend, Derek, watching holiday movies on Christmas Eve. Of course, Derek had made fun of him for asking to watch _Love Actually_ but begrudgingly agreed.

Despite it being a guilty pleasure, Benji can’t even enjoy the movie thanks to Derek’s relentless commentary.

Eventually, Benji excuses himself to get a glass of eggnog. Even though he knows he shouldn’t given his history, Benji finds himself reaching for the bottle of Bailey's to mix with his eggnog, desperate for something to take the edge off before he murders Derek.

He quickly downs the first glass of alcohol-laden eggnog and pours a second, which would be better described as Bailey's spiked with eggnog. As the alcohol burns his throat, he suddenly thinks about his dad.

Benji doesn’t think about his dad often, but every once in a while, something will dredge up fragments of memories from the depths of his subconscious which he assembles into the blurry silhouette of a man. Half the time, he’s not even sure the bits and pieces that he remembers are true, but they're all he has – snippets of stories that his mother lets slip or overheard conversations told in whispers behind closed doors.

Sometimes Benji wonders where his dad is now, if he ever misses his family or regrets leaving them. But most of the time, he wonders if he's like his dad at all. Did he get the green of his hazel eyes from his dad's side of the family? He knows that his dad was a musician – singer and guitarist like Benji ‐ which is how his parents met, a story which his mom recounted with surprising fondness when she presented Benji with his first guitar three years earlier.

But one question nibbles at the edges of his mind, though he’s too afraid to ask it even of himself. And maybe that’s why, after finishing his second glass of eggnog, he returns to the couch and rests his head on Derek's shoulder, letting the alcohol and cheerful rendition of “All I Want for Christmas is You" drown out Derek's never-ending commentary.

It doesn’t take long for an overwhelming feeling of drowsiness to overtake him. He barely makes it through the end of the movie, temporarily roused by the swelling of orchestral music playing over images of happy couples. Perhaps it’s the eggnog or the intoxicating sense of Christmas cheer or some magic combination of both, but Benji finds himself doing something that he hasn’t done in years. He makes a wish. And that’s when the trouble begins.


	2. The Trouble with Wishes

By the time winter break comes to a close without incident, Benji is beginning to think that this whole wish bullshit has blown over. Maybe he has to be a true believer in magic for it work or he’s used up his allotment of pixie dust, who really knows the mechanics of how these things work. But as soon as he walks into school and sees Victor, he knows he screwed up.

Because Victor is like the human embodiment of sunshine, chasing away the shadows from the darkest recesses of Benji's mind. As he basks in Victor’s warmth, it's like the parts of him that once believed in love and fairytales and happily-ever-afters slowly reawakens, tingling as feeling is restored to the extremities. And it burns as the heat spreads to his heart, long frost-bitten by the icy chill of cynicism.

The word destiny wrestles its way out of his mouth and he wants to melt into the floor - because really, who says stuff like that to _anyone_ let alone someone they just met? – but really he’s just melting from the comfort that Victor’s presence provides him.

He's blessedly rescued by the bell, escaping before he manages to embarrass himself too badly. And he vows to himself that he will stay away from Victor. Because Victor wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Benji and his stupid wishes. He decides that’s enough – no more bullshit and _definitely_ no more wishes – time for a return to sense and reason and predictability.

‐‐‐‐‐

But the trouble with wishes is that once Benji starts making them, it seems almost impossible to stop. It's as if they seep through the pores of his subconscious and into the universe through some osmosis-like process.

As he lies awake that night unable to sleep, he can’t help wishing that it could have been him riding on that ferris wheel next to Victor.

And as Benji tries to kill time at work the next afternoon, he can't keep his mind from wandering to his classmate and wishing he could see Victor again. When Victor turns up a few moments later, job application clutched nervously in hand, Benji curses whatever higher power or mischievous fairy it is that has decided to interfere in his life.

It's almost a relief when Victor storms out of Brasstown after their disastrous interview. And Benji thinks that will be the end of it, he just has to stay out of Victor’s way at school and he can put an end to this mess before it goes any further. Besides, _everyone_ knows that love isn’t something you can wish for, it has to be something that you earn.

Except there's a little part of him that isn’t quite ready to let go yet. And he knows from the fight with Andrew that Victor really needs this job. But Benji decides that he has to do this the right way – no wishes involved. So when he calls Victor late that night to offer him the job, he takes great care to avoid making any wishes that could sway his decision.

In the pause that follows the offer, Benji is certain that Victor, now free from the influence of outside forces, is going to turn down the position. But to his surprise and horror and delight, Victor accepts.

‐‐‐‐‐

The thing about being around Victor, Benji discovers over the next few months, is that it’s so effortless that he doesn’t even need wishes. They quickly fall into a rhythm at work, seemingly able to anticipate exactly what the other person needs. And Benji can just be himself without fear of being barraged with condescending comments. Victor, despite being the worst dancer Benji has ever seen, joins in when Benji dances to pop classics, the two of them laughing giddily and clumsily shaking their rumps with abandon. With Victor as his muse, he manages to arrange a cover song for his band in a single night – a feat that normally would have taken him weeks to accomplish. The worst he can expect from Victor is some gentle – and admittedly deserved - teasing over his abominable latte art. And Victor helps his long-dormant romantic side to blossom, helping to plan an anniversary dinner with Derek.

If being around Victor is like the satisfying snap of two magnets coming together, then being around Derek is the opposite – like trying to mash together two magnets of the same polarity which only repel each other more forcefully the harder he tries to bring them together.

Despite his best efforts to be a good boyfriend, nothing he does ever seems good enough for Derek. He knows Derek isn’t a good match for him, that they’re operating on incompatible frequencies, but he isn’t quite ready to let the relationship go – as if limping through the one year milestone will somehow prove that he is someone who is lovable and someone who is capable of love. So it’s not entirely unexpected when his romantic anniversary dinner is met with derision, but it still stings a bit.

As he cleans up the remains of his failed dinner alone, he can’t help wishing that he could share an anniversary with someone he loves. And maybe it shouldn’t surprise him when the bells at the front door jingle a few minutes later and it's Victor at the door, but it does. Although if he thinks about it, hasn’t it always been Victor since the moment they first met?

And Benji is finally ready to end things with Derek. Even if he can’t be with Victor, who seems happy with Mia as far as Benji can tell, he understands now how much he's sacrificing by staying with someone he doesn’t love.

He thinks that he can settle for just being friends – that he can survive with the reflected warmth that comes time from being in Victor's proximity. But as he leans over Victor’s shoulder, standing close enough that he can smell the faint traces of his cologne, their faces crowded together over a latte mug, he begins to have doubts. Because there’s nothing that he wants more than to close the narrow gap that separates them, to nestle his head against Victor's chest and to count his heartbeat to see if it is racing fast enough to keep up with his own.

‐‐‐‐‐

Although Benji has taken a firm anti-wish stance, he’s willing to make an exception in this case – he does not have the fortitude to survive another road trip with Sarah to get a stupid espresso machine repaired and he would rather jump out of a moving car than face another visit to the Ann Taylor outlets. And why the hell is the closest repair shop a four hour drive out of the city anyway?

Victor’s fortuitous appearance at Brasstown is like a Godsend and it only takes a few moments of desperate pleading to convince him to come along to fix the decrepit machinery. Although his motivations that morning had been purely self-serving, Benji is certainly not disappointed at the prospect of spending a day together with Victor.

As they set off on their road trip, they slip into comfortable conversation and Benji is reminded just how easy it is to be around Victor. He appreciates how Victor’s expressions change as he listens to Benji, brightening when he learns of Benji's Dolly Parton obsession and darkening with shared disappointment when he learns about the now strained relationship between Benji and Bill.

Their conversation is interrupted by Benji's cell phone ringing and he quickly moves to dismiss the call from his now ex-boyfriend. Admittedly, it had been a dick move to break up with him via text, but that was about all that Derek really deserved anyway.

Victor’s head whips around at the bold movement, a question clearly written across his face – and is that a glimmer of hope that Benji detects in his eyes? But it couldn’t be because Victor is with Mia, he firmly reminds himself.

‐‐‐‐‐

Everything about the repairman is slow, from his shuffling gait to his deliberate drawl and meandering anecdotes. Normally, this would annoy Benji, but in this particular instance, he’s happy to prolong his time with his coworker for as long as possible.

They decide to kill time by grabbing lunch and then stopping at a thrift store they'd passed on the way in to town. They pick out the most offensive outfits they can find for the other to try on. Benji wins – or is it loses? – with an oversized tan plaid jacket that looks like a relic recovered from the closet of a fashionless man from the 1960s.

As they try on one ridiculous outfit after the next, they laugh and tease and play around. Despite the disapproving stares they receive from disgruntled customers, Benji can’t remember the last time that he’s been this relaxed and had this much fun. He’s already dreading the drive home and the inevitable return to reality.

But he's granted a temporary reprieve when Victor breaks the news that the repairs are taking longer than expected and the machine won’t be ready until the following day. They check into the cheapest motel room they can find, knowing that anything more expensive will earn Sarah's ire. And like the plot of a bad romance novel, of course there’s only one bed to share.

Benji settles in on one side of the bed while Victor changes in the bathroom, nerves buzzing as he prepares to share a bed with his coworker-turned friend-turned unattainable crush.

Victor emerges from the bathroom and moves to set his neatly folded clothes on top of the dresser, spotting Benji's wallet which is carelessly left driver’s license side up. Benji expects to be embarrassed as he tells the shameful story of how he came to have his license suspended, but he’s put at ease by the concern which Victor emanates, thick and palpable and comforting like a woolly sweater.

And suddenly they're cocooned in the intimacy of shared spaces and deep dark secrets, their gazes lingering and the air warm and heavy between them. Benji catches himself just as he’s on the verge of wishing that he could lean over and kiss Victor, quickly saying goodnight and turning away before the situation gets out of hand.

Although he tries to stifle the wish as it forms in his mind - ruthlessly smothering it while it's only half pipped - his body betrays him, conveying everything he wants in the dryness of his mouth and the shaking of his hands and the fluttering of his heart. 

He's startled when a hand rests gently on his shoulder. Before he can get a word out, Victor's hand moves to his face, pulling their lips together. For a moment, every last nerve in Benji's body shimmers brilliantly, scorched as he presses into the kiss. But then a nauseating wave of guilt washes over him – this isn’t right, to manipulate another person like this.

He brusquely pushes Victor away and it kills him to see the shock and shame on Victor's face. He quickly flees the room, leaving Benji behind, alone except for the stammered apologies left in his wake. Benji bangs his fist against the bed in frustration at his carelessness, angry that he’s allowed Victor to be dragged bodily into the twisted tale of his life. But he knows exactly what he needs to do. He obviously can’t be trusted to control himself so he needs to stay away from Victor for good before he does any more harm, no matter how badly it hurts him to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a nice holiday! Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy.


	3. Wings

Benji's plan to avoid Victor doesn’t get off to a great start. On the one week anniversary of the catastrophe at Willacoochee, he stops by Brasstown to clear out his locker and turn in his keys. He hurriedly dumps the contents of his locker into a cardboard box, hoping to avoid both Victor and Sarah. His boss nearly had a breakdown when he’d requested the transfer, but she’d finally relented when he said the alternative would be quitting Brasstown altogether.

Just as he finishes packing up his belongings, grateful that he'll escape without any awkward encounters, he hears a hesitant voice behind him.

“Hey. Didn’t think you were working today.”

It hurts to look at Victor, to feel the sudden distance between them. It’s like a sinkhole swallowed the ground between them, leaving them teetering precariously on either side of a chasm.

“I’m not – I’m just clearing out my stuff. Starting next week, I’m transferring to a new location.”

“Is this because I kissed you?”

The question catches Benji off-guard. “Yes. No. Kind of?” If only he could find a way to make Victor understand that none of this is his fault. That even though he is leaving because of the kiss, that it’s not just a kiss – that it’s longing and loneliness and confusion crystallized in the fusion of their lips.

“You don’t have to switch stores, Benji. What happened on our trip – it won’t happen again.”

But that’s exactly the problem. Because Benji wants it to happen again. Repeatedly. Each and every day. Until the end of time. And that makes him feel so fucking guilty and confused and maybe a little scared.

“The idea of working with you every day makes me feel… guilty.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

The conviction in Victor's voice strikes him and he wavers at the edge of that void, wanting so badly to believe him. But just as he’s about to take that step into the nothingness, the icy hand of fear clutches him and yanks him back from the edge.

“Look, Victor – I want you to know that none of this is your fault, okay? I wi– “ He stops himself, catching that damned word in his mouth. He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. “I don’t know how to explain this situation to you, but just know that this isn’t your fault. Please? Anyway, I should really get going.”

Victor’s eyes are on the floor and his shoulders are slumped. Any traces of his earlier radiance have been washed away and Benji hates himself for it.

“I uh, I guess I'll see you around school?” Victor’s voice is meek and he uncertainly raises his gaze to meet Benji's.

The thought of losing Victor feels as incomprehensible as ripping out an organ, but Benji knows it needs to be done. Just look at the damage he’d already done to Victor just being in his proximity for a few months. “I think it’s best if we just stay out of each other’s way.” And then he runs like the coward that he is, abandoning the shadow of Victor behind him.

‐‐‐‐‐

Benji doesn’t see Victor much the next couple of weeks at school. Luckily, they don’t have any classes together and Benji is able to adjust the route he takes between classes to avoid most run-ins in the hallway.

Lunch period is a little trickier to manage, but Benji finds that if he brings his own lunch and doesn’t stop at his locker beforehand that he's able to hide away under the safety of one of the courtyard trees before Victor takes a seat at his usual table.

Except he can’t help noticing that Victor doesn't sit at his usual table anymore. He’s sometimes joined by Felix or Pilar at a table tucked away in a corner, but Mia is conspicuously absent.

Benji had hoped that the time apart would relight whatever ember he’d extinguished in Victor, but it seems like Victor has slipped further into gloom since their tense parting at Brasstown.

\-----

The week before spring break, Benji is in the art room working on a sketch for his final project when a soft knock at the door interrupts him. For a moment, he simultaneously hopes and fears that it will be Victor at the door, but he’s surprised to see Felix instead.

“Hey Benji, got a second?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He hopes he doesn’t sound as shocked as he is. Felix is a nice enough guy, but it’s pretty unusual for him to seek out Benji like this - kids at school tended to give him a wide berth, something about not wanting people to get the wrong impression.

Felix takes a seat at an adjacent desk and folds his hands in his lap. “I'm worried about Victor. He’s been really quiet the last couple of weeks and all he’ll tell me is that he screwed up and ruined his friendship with you. Honestly, I think he’s more upset about his fight with you than he was when he and Mia broke up last month.”

Benji's mind is reeling. Victor and Mia broke up? _Before_ the trip to Willacoochee? And Victor is more upset about losing him than Mia? Could Victor actually _like_ him back?

Felix interrupts his thoughts. “So I was hoping you could talk to him? Victor’s a good person and I know that he would never intentionally hurt his friends so I’m sure whatever he did is just a misunderstanding.” He leans in and nudges Benji conspiratorially. “Between you and me, it’s lucky that he’s so attractive because that boy is _clearly_ not the brightest crayon in the box sometimes.”

“Felix, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but Victor doesn’t have anything to apologize for, this whole mess is all my fault.”

Felix raises a hand to stop him. “Look, what happened between the two of you is none of my business. All I'm saying is that judging by the fact that both of you look like you haven’t slept at all the last couple of weeks that maybe you should just talk to each other and clear the air.”

“Felix, I –“

But Felix is already retreating from the room. “Nope, not me. _You_ need to talk to _Victor_.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Benji alone with his thoughts.

\-----

Benji sits at his desk, tapping the end of his pen against a blank notebook page, trying to find the right words to explain the tricky nature of wishes to Victor. He’s decided to take the easy way out by dropping a note in Victor’s locker towards the end of the day on Friday so that he can avoid facing him for at least the week of spring break.

Victor, his coworker, turned friend, turned confidante, turned unrequited crush, turned possibly requited crush? Or more succinctly, Victor, who had been the most recent victim of one of Benji’s wishes gone awry. Very awry. Like life-destroyingly, terribly awry.

_Dear Victor,_

Not much, but at least it’s a start. Now, he just has to tell Victor the truth; that nothing that transpired between them the last few months is Victor’s fault, including that kiss in the motel room. That it had all been the result of those damn Christmas movies and that glass of spiked egg-nog which lowered his inhibitions enough that he slipped up and let himself make one tiny little stupid wish. He needs Victor to understand that this is all because of Benji, that Victor is just collateral damage in the cosmic joke that is Benji’s life.

But if – and it’s a big if – there is the slightest chance that Victor might actually like him back then he deserves to know the whole truth before things go any further. Full disclosure and all that entails.

_So funny story. Around Christmas, I may have accidentally wished your family to Shady Creek because I watched too many sappy movies that made me believe in true love. And I may have been subconsciously influencing you to have feelings for me, which I really didn’t mean to do but whenever I get too close to you, things get kind of fuzzy and I don’t always think very clearly. I should probably mention that ever since I was little, I’ve had this ability to wish for things and have them come true._

Benji chews on his bottom lip as he reads over what he’s written, pen anxiously tapping away.

He huffs in frustration and brings the pen back to paper, scribbling angrily.

_DID I MENTION THAT I’M COMPLETELY CRAZY???_

His pen zig-zags furiously down the page as he underlines the last line for good measure. He crumples up the note and bangs his head against the freshly revealed page in frustration.

He sighs, picks up the pen, and starts again.

_Dear Victor,_

_This will probably sound crazy, but just hear me out…_

\-----

That Friday Benji manages to stealthily drop the note into Victor's locker just before the last period. Now, he’s hidden away in the safety of his room, fully prepared to camp out for the duration of break, aside from his shifts at Brasstown.

He’s about four hours deep into a marathon of Drag Race – there’s just something about BenDeLaCreme rapping as Mary Poppins that never fails to cheer him up – when his phone buzzes.

_Victor 7:35 PM_

_I got your note._

_Can we please talk?_

Benji sets his phone down in his lap, unsure of what to say. He had been so certain that Victor would want nothing to do with him that he barely considered what he would say if Victor did actually want to talk with him.

He starts typing a few times, but ends up deleting the message each time. Victor must have been waiting for an answer because he replies even though Benji never actually answers his message.

_Victor 7:42 PM_

_Please, Benji._

Benji’s nerves buzz and his heart flutters. Suddenly unable to sit still, he strides nervously around his room, running a hand through his hair and staring helplessly at the messages on his phone. After a while, his room feels too confining and he decides he needs some fresh air.

On his way to the door, he sees his mom sitting at the kitchen table working on a crossword puzzle, hair piled into a messy bun and Bill’s reading glasses slipping down her nose – she refuses to buy a pair of her own, insisting it to be a frivolous expense. The dimmed kitchen light illuminates the frizzy curls of her hair in a ring encircling her head.

“Everything okay, chickadee?” His mom always seems to know when something is bothering him. “I could hear you pacing upstairs.” Or there’s that.

Benji steps into the kitchen and he must look at least half as bad as he feels because his mom instantly looks concerned.

“Benji, what’s wrong? Did something happen with Derek?” She pulls out the chair next to her and beckons him over with a sweep of her hand. “Come. Sit. I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

Benji takes a seat while his mom pours him some tea from the kettle. His foot bounces nervously and he chews a hangnail, a childish habit that he only indulges in at home.

“Actually, mom, we broke up – well, I broke up with him – a few weeks ago.” He cups his hands around the mug she sets in front of him, comforted by the warmth.

His mom tilts her head slightly, one of her tells that she’s about to lie. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Benji tries to contain his amusement - his mom had never been fond of Derek although she had done her best to hide her feelings. “It's okay mom, you don’t have to pretend that you liked him. I’m not really sure that I really did either to be honest.”

His mom lets out a relieved breath and smiles sheepishly. “Was it that obvious? I just - I don’t think that he was a good fit for you.”

Benji raises an eyebrow ruefully. “Yeah, that’s an understatement. I just wish it hadn’t taken me a year to figure that out.” He gives her a pointed look. “A heads up would have been nice.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, some things you just have to figure out for yourself. Your grandparents tried to warn me about your dad but I wouldn’t listen. If anything, it made me want to prove them wrong even more.” She pauses, lost in the winding trail of memory where untaken paths beckon and unasked questions loom in the shadows.

His mom almost never talks about his dad, so Benji decides to seize the opportunity to ask a question that's jangled around in his mind for as long as he can remember.

“Mom?” His voice is soft and he waits until he has her attention before continuing. “Did – did dad leave because of me?” He drops his eyes, guilty and ashamed.

She sits upright, eyes wide, clearly taken by surprise. She reaches for his hand. “Oh, Benji, no, of course not. Have you really thought that all these years?”

He nods ever so slightly. His voice is thick as he replies, “One night, the two of you were arguing and I wished that he would go away. And he did. He left and never came back…” He raises his eyes cautiously to hers, finding only concern where he expected disgust.

“I want you to listen to me. Your dad did _not_ leave because of you.” Her voice is firm but comforting, reassuring like a thick wool sweater. She pauses for a moment to collect her thoughts. “Your dad – he was the kind of person that was just never meant to be a father or a husband.”

Benji’s anxiety is overtaken by curiosity and he watches his mother closely, listening intently. He so rarely hears stories about his dad that he wants to collect every little bit and piece, hoping to corporealize the miscellaneous scraps that he’d tried for so long to assemble into the shape of his father.

“Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t all bad. He could be incredibly charming…” she smiles wistfully at a long-forgotten memory. “And there was certainly never a dull moment with him. I was completely crazy about him and nothing anyone said about him could change my mind. When you had his attention, there was no better feeling in the world. But the problem was keeping his attention.”

Benji thinks he remembers something – the breathless exuberance of being spun high in the air while a man beams up at him, laughing – but he can’t be sure. And maybe it doesn’t really matter if it happened or not as long as it feels like the truth to him.

“I think there was a part of him that just couldn’t settle down. Being a musician is tough but he always loved the adventure, the late nights, and the adulation that comes with it. He loved us – he loved _you_ \- but maybe not more than he loved himself. Him leaving – it was never your fault, no matter what you wished.”

He takes a moment to let her words sink in. He wants to believe her, to be free of this guilt that’s tethered him to the ground for all these years.

And he wants to believe that there’s a chance that Victor likes him – genuinely likes him without the meddling hand of any cosmic influence. But surely there were too many occurrences for it to all be a coincidence?

“It wasn’t just that one wish though, there were other times, too. I wished for you to find someone to take care of you and a few weeks later, you met Bill.”

“Bill and I dated for a few months before I introduced him to you, chickadee. I had to know that he would be someone who would be around for a while because I didn’t want you to get hurt if things didn’t work out.”

Benji stops to consider this. Had it all really been a coincidence?

“Life isn’t a fairytale – there aren’t any fairy godmothers or magic wishes or happily ever afters. But that doesn’t mean that love doesn’t exist. It just means that we have to find the people worth loving and do what we can to keep them around.”

Benji pauses for a moment, wondering if he should tell his mom about Victor. But then again, he talks to her about pretty much everything. “So, there's this guy that I work with – “

“Mm hmm, Victor – the one you have a crush on.” His mom nods knowingly. She stops when she notices his surprised expression. “I'm sorry, was that supposed to be a secret?” The corners of her lips tug upwards into an annoyingly smug smile, despite her efforts to remain straight-faced. “Oh, honey, you're hardly subtle. For the last few months every other story out of your mouth has been ‘Victor did this’ or ‘Victor said that.’ For goodness’ sake dear, you drew a picture of him for his birthday!” She shakes her head fondly.

Benji slumps back in his chair, trying to hide his burning cheeks. “Okay. Yes. Victor. _The one I have a crush on_.” The last sentence is delivered with an exasperated eye roll and voice hitched an octave in a mocking tone.

“He must be a very special young man if he’s gotten under your skin so much.”

Benji’s ruffled feathers are soothed by the opportunity to talk about the subject of his affection. “He’s really great - sweet, caring, and thoughtful. I really like him. But I think I might have messed everything up.”

“Have you tried talking to him? I’m sure things aren’t as bad as you think they are. If this Victor has any sense at all, he'll realize what a catch you are - and I'm not just saying that because I’m your mother.”

There’s one last doubt casting a shadow over the hope that is cautiously rising in his chest. “But mom, what if I’m like him – like dad? What if I’m not meant to love people? I mean, I thought I loved Derek but then I moved on so easily? What if the same thing happens with Victor?”

“You are nothing like your father, at least in that respect. Pardon my language, but Derek was a jerk and it’s a testament to what a patient, kind, and caring person you are that you lasted an entire year with him. You’re still so young. It’s natural that you’re going to fall in and out of love because you’re still trying to figure out who _you_ are. But that doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with you just because you didn’t meet the love of your life at 16. You are an immensely loving and lovable person. Never doubt that, chickadee.”

Benji stands to give his mom a hug, “Thanks, mom.”

He's about to leave the kitchen to return to his room when his mom calls after him. “Wait, Benji, I have one question for you.” He’s instantly worried when he sees the mischievous smile on her face. “When do I get to meet this elusive Victor?”

“Geez, mom, we're not even dating yet!” he whines.

“Can I at least see a picture?”

\-----

Once back in the safety of his room, Benji pulls out his phone. Before he loses his nerve, he opens Victor’s message and quickly types a response.

_8:56 PM_

_Okay_

_Where and when?_

The response is almost immediate.

_Victor 8:57 PM_

_Tomorrow at 7, my apartment_

_My parents took my brother and sister to visit my grandparents so we'll have the place to ourselves_

His phone buzzes again almost instantly.

_Victor 8:57_

_To talk without being interrupted_

_I promise not to Willacoochee you again_

😓

Benji laughs a little at that. He could think of worse things than being Willacoocheed by Victor.

_8:58_

_Okay_

_see you tomorrow at 7 then_

_Victor 8:58_

_Goodnight_

_See you tomorrow!_

\-----

As he walks to Victor's apartment, Benji tries to distract himself by focusing on the music playing in headphones, but he can barely hear it over the rapid thumping of his heart.

He’s anxious to see Victor, excited by the possibility of what might happen. But at the same time, he's afraid of what might happen. He wonders if there’s a way to open his own little pocket in the universe, a place where he can live in the anticipation and the unlimited potential of untested possibilities.

Before he’s able work out a way to manipulate the space-time continuum, he finds himself standing in front of Victor's apartment building. He pauses at the bottom of the steps, trying to conquer his nerves. Taking a deep breath, he takes a hesitant step forward. He can’t help feeling like he’s taking the first step into a new stage of his life, for better or worse.

His steps slow as he takes the last few steps to Victor’s floor. He hears a door shut just as he makes it to the landing and is surprised to see Felix climbing the stairs to the top floor carrying a large box.

“Felix? What are you doing here?”

Felix whirls around on the step he’s standing on and ends up seated on the step behind him, nearly dropping the box he’s holding. He pops to his feet quickly. “Hi, Benji. What am _I_ doing here?” He chuckles nervously and leans on the banister in what is presumably supposed to be a casual way, although it only serves to belie his discomfort. “I’m – I was just… I mean, I live here. Yes. I live here. If anything, _I_ should be asking what _you_ are doing here.” He cocks an eyebrow and looks at Benji smugly.

“I stopped by to talk to Victor. You know, clear the air.” Something sparkly in Felix's hair catches his attention. “Is that… tinsel in your hair?”

Felix paws at his hair for the offending glittery strand. “Tinsel? Absolutely not. I was just, um, tweaking the formula for my homemade conditioner and… I'll give you some of my next batch. Anyway, I should probably skedaddle. See you around, Benji.” He bolts up the stairs, nearly tripping as he goes.

Benji takes a moment to ponder the strange exchange and to attempt to collect his scattered thoughts, which proves to be as hopeless as trying to herd cats. After a final deep breath, he raises his hand to knock on the door.

But the door swings open before his knuckles make contact, revealing a frazzled looking Victor on the other side, holding a bag in his arms.

“Felix, you forgot your – Oh. Benji. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

They stand awkwardly for a moment, just staring at each other. It’s the first time they've spoken in weeks and the strangeness of the moment is strange, that they could be so uncertain with each other when they had always been so at ease with one another.

“Um, do you want to come in?” Victor steps aside. He’s suddenly reminded of the weight in his arms and looks around before deciding to set the bag on the floor next to the door.

Benji steps inside and Victor quietly closes the door behind him. He's about to launch into a speech, but the sight of Victor’s apartment takes his breath away – which is probably a mercy given that he still has absolutely no idea what he’s going to say.

The living room is decorated for Christmas in a display so opulent that it puts the famed 5th Avenue store windows to shame. A tree sparkles in the corner, decorated with lights, tinsel, and ornate ornaments. Garlands frame the mantel and LED candles glow in the fireplace, adding a soft ambiance without contributing to the already warm Atlanta night. Fake snow and candles glimmer around the room, warming the red of the poinsettias spread liberally throughout the space. 

Benji clears his throat awkwardly. “Your family is really into Christmas, huh? Isn’t it a little late to have all these decorations up?”

Victor shakes his head gently. “Not exactly. I just put them up – well, Felix helped, too. I – I wanted you to have the kind of Christmas that you deserve, the kind you talked about wishing for in your letter.” He looks down nervously and licks his lips before steeling himself to continue. “With someone who… cares about you.” He hesitantly raises his eyes to meet Benji’s, a mix of warmth and hope and uncertainty visible in his expression.

The statement knocks the wind out of Benji, as effective as a punch to the gut. He looks around the room, marveling at the amount of work it must have taken. And Victor had done all of this, just for him? He feels the familiar tingle of tears prickling at the corner of his eyes but tries his best to blink the feeling away.

“You did all of this for me?” His voice is just above a whisper, as if anything louder might wake him from a dream that he’s not ready to leave behind yet.

Victor nods slightly. And once again, they find themselves cocooned in silence, although this time, it's decidedly cozier.

“Victor, I – “

“Look, Benji-" They start at the same time.

“Why don’t we sit down?” He leads Benji over to the couch and they sit, careful to maintain a safe distance between them.

But a nervous energy carries Victor off of the couch and he paces pensively as he dives into a speech that even though obviously practiced, still somehow feels straight from the heart.

“So, I read your letter and I understand where you’re coming from. But did you ever stop to consider that maybe this wasn’t your wishes coming true?”

And Benji wants to tell him right then and there that he’d been a fool this whole time, that the truth had been right in front of him but he’d been too afraid to accept it. But Victor cuts him off before he can say anything.

“What if they were my wishes? You said that you made your wish on Christmas Eve, but my family had already been planning to move here since the beginning of December. And I wished for years that I could live in a place where I could be myself.” He pauses for a moment and tilts his head thoughtfully. “To be fair, Shady Creek isn’t _exactly_ a gay mecca but it’s a lot better than Graham, Texas.”

“And the first day we met, I felt a connection with you as soon as I saw you walk into that hallway.” He sighs regretfully. “I wanted to ask you to go on the Ferris wheel with me that night at the carnival, but I saw Mia out of the corner of my eye and I panicked at the last second because everything would be so much easier if...” Benji nods reassuringly - he'd gone through the same period of wanting things to be simpler.

“Then there was the night of the anniversary dinner and my big date with Mia. That was the night I knew for sure that I couldn’t be the person I was pretending to be and that it wasn’t fair to Mia to lead her on anymore so I ended things with her. And even though I didn’t love her that way, I did care about her and it hurt to break up with her. So I went to the person who always made me feel like things would be okay – I went to see _you_.”

Benji again feels tears threatening, this time joined by an uncomfortable lump in his throat, which he does his best to swallow.

“And then we spent the day together on our work trip and it was so perfect. I mean, it was a pretty average day all things considered but that’s what made it so perfect – that just doing all these normal things with you could feel so special. And I was so happy that we had to spend the night there because that meant I got to be with you just a little bit longer. Even if we weren’t really together, it was still just such a relief to be with someone that I didn’t have to pretend with all the time.”

“But then I kissed you, because it felt like I might suffocate if I didn’t, and then you wouldn’t talk to me and I was so sure that I screwed everything up. Until I got your letter and realized that you somehow had no idea what an amazing person you are. So I wanted to make sure that you know. That you are… amazing.”

“Basically, what I’m trying to say is that all I want for Christmas, for New Years, for Valentine’s Day and Groundhog's Day and any other day – all I’ve ever wanted even before I knew exactly _who_ it was – is you, Benji. You’re like all of my dreams come true. So maybe it wasn’t your wishes that got us here - maybe it was mine.”

Benji sits in stunned silence, staring at his hands and soaking in the warmth of Victor’s words. He had been prepared to do a lot of talking and had even dared to hope that Victor might like him back. But he was completely unprepared to be the recipient of such a heartfelt declaration of like.

He searches for the right words to say, but finds it hard to come up with a suitable response. He looks up to meet Victor’s eyes, hoping that he can at least convey his feelings through his eyes if not his words, only to find Victor standing in front of him with his eyes squinched shut in concentration.

Caught by surprise, he can’t keep the words from escaping from his mouth, “Um, Vic? Are you okay?”

“I’m wishing that you’ll kiss me.” He peeks one eye open. “Is it working?”

And Benji laughs. Because he remembers that this beautiful, absurd boy in front of him is Victor, _his_ Victor, and he doesn’t have to try so hard to find the perfect thing to say or do, he can just _be_ with him and that’s enough.

He stands, stepping in closer. “You are… the best kind of idiot, Victor Salazar.” Victor huffs and is about to respond when Benji clasps his hands behind his neck and pulls their lips together, finally kissing him like he'd wanted to do a thousand times and more since they’d met only a few months before. Victor’s arms quickly find their way around his waist, gently tugging him closer. And it’s that same magnetic feeling – that this is exactly how they're supposed to be.

They finally separate a few minutes later to catch their breath, foreheads still pressed together as they rock almost imperceptibly from side to side.

“So I’m an idiot, huh?” Victor teases gently. “Remind me, which one of us thought he had magical wishing powers?”

“Shut up.” Benji shoves him playfully. Normally he would be hopelessly embarrassed, but there was something about Victor that made the entire situation charming.

Victor leans back in to press his forehead to Benji's and smiles crookedly at him, whispering softly, “Make me.”

It doesn’t take long for Benji to oblige.

He quickly grabs a pillow off of the couch behind him and smacks Victor in the face with it.

Victor stands for a minute, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected attack.

“You are so going to regret that…”

He reaches for the remaining pillow while Benji bolts down the hallway with a high-pitched giggle. But between Victor’s natural athleticism and his familiarity with the territory, he quickly catches up with Benji and chases him through the kitchen and back into the living room. Benji finds himself pinned with his back to the couch, wielding his pillow in front of him defensively. But Victor’s longer arms prevail and he deftly smacks Benji in the face before tackling him onto the couch and tickling him mercilessly.

Benji finally admits defeat, breathlessly crying out “Uncle!” in between a fit of giggles.

Victor smiles down at him devilishly. “I didn’t realize we were already using pet names. Wouldn’t be my first choice but I think we can make it work…”

As Benji stares at Victor’s smiling face above him, rosy-cheeked and shining, he’s overcome with emotion. Suddenly serious, he reaches up to brush Victor’s cheek with his thumb. “I really like you, Victor Salazar.”

_And it feels like he's stepping off of a cliff…_

Victor dips his head down and kisses him sweetly. “I really like you, too, Benjamin Campbell.”

_…but maybe he has wings._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this late dose of Christmas cheer! 
> 
> I'm pretty sure I went a whole fic without anyone blushing or saying the word pancakes - talk about personal growth!


End file.
